The David Lynch Films That Made Us
In the wake of David Lynch's death, the SHOWstudio team reflect on the filmmaker's unparalleled brilliance, as seen via his vast catalogue of films.
In the wake of David Lynch's death, the SHOWstudio team reflect on the filmmaker's unparalleled brilliance, as seen via his vast catalogue of films.
David Lynch wasn't just a hero for filmmakers. He was everyone's inspiration: you only have to look at the way he's united crowds on social media in remembrance of his greatness to realise that. Wanting to honour Lynch's artistic prowess, the SHOWstudio team reflect on the what's and why's of their favourite Lynch film. And remember, 'Ideas are like fish... if you want to catch the big fish, you've got to go deeper.'
Blue Velvet, 1986
David Lynch is one of the greatest filmmakers there’s ever been. The film of his that has stayed with me most is Blue Velvet, in part because of the wonderful performance by the beautiful Isabella Rossellini but also because of the film’s sexually dangerous colour palette! His colours inspired a photograph I took of Linda Evangelista for a Jil Sander campaign back in 1991. The photograph was actually nicknamed ‘Twin Peaks’ as its working title due to its Lynch-like colouration.
Nick Knight, Director
Eraserhead, 1977
I’ll always remember going to the Rio Cinema in Vancouver with my sister every time they screened Eraserhead. David Lynch’s 1977 masterpiece (and first in his incomparable filmography), cloaked in stark black and white, unfolds in a desolate industrial wasteland - a nightmarish world that feels simultaneously alien and all too familiar. It follows Henry Spencer (played by Lynch’s friend and frequent collaborator Jack Nance) as he navigates this bleak, surreal landscape, burdened by modern anxieties we all recognise: work, home, and relationships. Then comes fatherhood—unexpected, grotesque, and overwhelming - forcing him to confront his deepest fears and frustrations. The film doesn’t provide answers or resolutions; instead, it heightens the unspoken dread of existence and the suffocating pressure to conform to a ‘normal’ life, leaving us to ponder the absurdity of what normal truly means.
Joshua Graham, Fashion Features Editor
Lost Highway, 1997
What I love about Lost Highway is that it breaks all fixed narrative rules and focuses entirely on subjectivity and interpretation. It’s a captivating portrayal of male ego and identity, questioning the audience’s understanding of what is actually real and the reality a person can create for themselves. I was lucky enough to see it in the cinema last year, and I remember struggling to make sense of it while being totally transfixed - a sweet spot I often find myself in with Lynch. He combined dreamlike visuals, incredible performances, and a haunting soundscape to create a film that stayed with me for days afterwards. An incredible film by a truly incredible director.
Nicola Gribben, Senior Film Editor
Mulholland Drive, 2001
Mulholland Drive was the David Lynch film I watched and I remember being profoundly captivated by his ability to craft a narrative that, while slow-paced and unconventional in structure, remained both intensely compelling and deeply engaging. A scene that has always stuck with me is the one in which Justin Theroux's character is in a meeting with a production company regarding the replacement of his lead actress. The scene centres around the moment when the boss is served an espresso that he finds displeasing - the interplay between the simple act of being served a coffee and the characters' expressions creates such tension and humour, it’s completely ingenious. The dark, surreal worlds he constructed were unlike anything that had preceded or followed him; his films are entirely unique. David Lynch created art that you can truly get lost in, and I will always admire him for this.
Esme Warren, Junior Film Editor
I came out of the cinema after watching Mulholland Drive, excited and confused. The guy behind the bar asked me: 'Have you ever tried to remember a dream?' And suddenly the clouds parted and everything became clear. That's exactly what Mulholland Drive felt like to me, a total hazy state of 'why is this happening'. It's much more fun to release yourself and revel in the ambiguity and complexity. Maybe the fun is even in constructing the meaning afterwards. Amongst the chaos, Lynch also critiques the superficiality and falseness of Hollywood, and yet succumbs to some of the same excesses he’s deconstructing. A love letter to the very thing it seeks to tear down. That's Lynch's true brilliance.
Hollie Hunsdale, Gallery Assistant
The Elephant Man, 1980
Like most people I've come to hold much admiration and respect for, I was introduced to David Lynch by another famous David (Bowie), who not only starred in Twin Peaks but also played The Elephant Man on Broadway in 1977, three year's before Lynch's autobiographical adaptation came out. Although not revered in the same frame of greatness as Lynch's later work (it was however, nominated for eight oscars), nor does it embody the late director's signature 'Lynchian style' subsequently named after him, The Elephant Man is heartbreakingly beautiful (helped by its finely choosen luminously monochromatic colour palette) much as it is conspicuously, desperately, sad. I'm not really one for grab-the-tissues-and-cry-your-eyes-out-films, I think life is already horrid enough as it is without a tear-jerker thrown into the mix.
Alas, truth be told, Bowie's portrayal of The Elephant Man (real name Joseph Merrick), started an unfolding obsession for me into Merrick's short but tumultuous life that saw him be paraded in and out of Victorian Freak Shows in the 1880s. I was only a teen in my formative years when I went down The Elephant Man rabbit hole, which means Lynch's cinematic interpretation was a first for me, tearing my mind wide open concerning the surrealist world of avant-garde film; something that should never be overlooked. Few things are more important than holding your formative cultural encounters close, Lynch knew that more than anyone when he said: 'We think we understand the rules when we become adults but what we really experience is a narrowing of the imagination.'
Christina Donoghue, Art and Culture Editor
Twin Peaks, 1990 - 1991
What more can be said about Twin Peaks? The original series, its revival, and the film are arguably David Lynch’s magnum opus, weaving a dark, enigmatic world that’s equally familiar and mysterious. What I loved was the surreal absurdity with which it approached even the gravest subjects, counterbalanced by the comedic charm of Dale Cooper, providing a welcome lightness from the ever-present tension and eerie undertones. The opening sequence, soundtracked by Angelo Badalamenti, perfectly sets the tone for the series - haunting, atmospheric, yet hopeful while also tinged with nostalgia. The dull brown grade, mixed with luminescent green-rimmed typography, says it all: in Lynch’s world, nothing is ever as it seems.
Michael Gossage, Art Director